


Ex Memoria

by Triskaidekalogue



Series: HSO 2011 ficbits [10]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ancestors, F/M, Ficbit, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-19
Updated: 2011-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:34:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triskaidekalogue/pseuds/Triskaidekalogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no body, but the Disciple ends up sitting vigil still.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ex Memoria

**Author's Note:**

> A snippet written for [lj user myerfly's soundtrack](http://hs-olympics.livejournal.com/9563.html?thread=1445979#t1445979) in HSO Bonus Round 2B.

The Disciple hadn't expected to survive.

Crouching in the familiar dark of the cavern system she'd frequented as the Huntress, she clutched the bloody shreds of her lover's last possession and rocked back and forth on her heels. Her eyes were open, but they saw nothing; she was trying to think, trying to puzzle out where the rest of the inner circle would have fled. Whenever she started to gather together a few strands of possibility, though, the sound of the Suffering cut across her consciousness again, forcing her to standstill. She hugged the rags closer.

There was an odd tang to the smoke trapped in its creases. Not blood. She _knew_ blood. She took another sniff, and a memory woke: it was the unguent reparative they'd applied to prolong the torture. With a snarl that hiccuped into a sob, she flung the precious relic away from her.

It fell partway across a subterranean puddlet. Instantly, mutant red began curling into the water, and the Disciple was entranced for a moment until she realized those bloodstains were all that was left of the body of the Signless. She scrambled over and rescued the leggings. Bloody water dripped from her hands.

 _No. This can't be all there is._ She placed a palm against the cool cavern wall, trying to rid herself of the bright hot despair that roared inside her. _This can't be all._

When she took her hand away she left a pinkish imprint on the stone. She stared at it.

_It isn't._

She remembered the very first question she'd asked of his teachings, after so long spent in passive devotion, and she remembered the answer he'd given. _Yeah, I think it's possible,_ he'd said. _In our lifetime? I don't know. But soon. Sometime. I wish we could dream together. I'd like to show you. We had peace before, and we can have it again._

Baring her fangs, the Disciple tore a rivulet of green down her forearm. With her other hand she dipped a finger in the blood. _The Sufferer dreamed of peace,_ she wrote on the wall, and against the darkness of her thoughts, _Remember._


End file.
